


Hurt

by cazmalfoy



Category: CSI: Miami, CSI: NY
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:16:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6633037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only person Danny had ever cared about never knew and one person who cared about him never told him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This is set post Run Silent Run Deep (NY, 2x20).

It had been almost two years since Danny’s world had been taken away from him.

It had been a rocky relationship at best. From the instant Danny had met Tim Speedle things had been hard. There were things in Danny’s past that he didn’t want anyone to know; memories he was too ashamed with himself for creating.

There had been things in Tim’s past that he hadn’t shared with Danny; Danny wasn’t a fool. He knew this. He knew that there were demons hiding under Tim’s bed at night whilst he slept and skeletons in Tim’s closet whilst he dressed. But he had never pressured Tim into telling them to Danny. And Tim had never asked Danny about his ghosts.

They had argued a lot. The physical distance between them was so huge that it was easier to blame someone miles away for everything rather than accept that they had messed up.

Danny had never admitted it out loud to Tim but, despite everything, how much he cared for Tim had never changed. Despite all the uttered words, laced with spite and malice, and all the shouted insults. Nothing had managed to succeed in changing what Danny felt in his heart.

The news of a shooting in Miami had spread through the precinct like wildfire. Especially when it was discovered that Horatio Caine, the redhead who had been in New York a few weeks before, had been involved. By the time the news reached Danny, everyone knew the name of the cop that got shot. A CSI called Tim Speedle, whoever he was.

Danny had just dropped his evidence and ran to the bathroom, his hand over his mouth. The New Yorker had barely reached the toilet when he lost the contents of his stomach. When he reached up to brush his hair away from his forehead his hand was shaking uncontrollably.

Stella had followed him into the bathroom, despite the fact that he was in the gents, and was crouching down on the floor next to him. She had rubbed his back soothingly, flushed the toilet, pulled him to his feet and driven him home.

Danny hadn’t meant to tell her what was wrong with him, he never meant for anyone to know the truth about his sexual preferences, but as he sat in the passenger seat of her car staring out of the window, the words just fell out his mouth in a tangled mess he was sure didn’t make sense.

His tears had hindered his story telling and when he had eventually finished, he looked over at Stella and saw that her mascara was smeared from the tears she was crying as well.

Tim had died before Danny could tell him how he really felt about him and now, looking down at his brother’s grave, the same thing had happened with Louie.

Danny turned his back, unable to stomach the sight of the stone anymore, and walked away as he withdrew his cell phone from his pocket. He needed to talk to someone so much just then. Scrolling down through his phone book the past hit him as hard as a ton of bricks when the entries skipped from  _Stacey D_ to  _Tommy S_.

The one person he wanted to speak to wasn’t there for him anymore. It had taken him a year and a half before he could delete Tim’s number from his phone. He had even found himself calling the number in a vain attempt to prove to his head that Tim wasn’t really gone. Only to be slapped by the truth when a pre-recorded voice told him that the number he was trying to call was no longer in service.

Louie had been out of Danny’s life for so long before everything happened. It had been at least two years since he had spoken to his brother and maybe even another three since they had seen each other face to face.

Danny had been seventeen when Sonny had turned his brother against him. Fifteen years had passed since then and it still felt like Louie was holding a grudge against Danny for something. Danny would have given anything in the world to know what he did wrong so that he could either fix it or apologise profusely.

After Danny had been trapped in the panic room Louie had been calling Danny persistently. Eventually the case (about a guy whose brother had been killed) had broken through Danny’s walls and he had succumbed to Louie’s invitations, agreeing to meet Louie after work.

Danny had been adamant that Louie was either in trouble and needed Danny’s help getting out of it, or that he was looking for a handout. It had turned out that Louie wanted nothing more than to see Danny after such a long absence.

At the end of the evening Danny had been climbing into a cab when Louie had told him how proud his was that his younger brother had made something of his life and became something so respectable as an NYPD cop. Danny had been too stunned to say anything in response, he had simply gotten in the cab and allowed himself to be chauffeured back to his apartment building.

When the Jersey case had been closed Mac had let Danny listen to what Louie had said. Danny had spent so long hating Louie for pushing him aside and not letting him be part of the gang that he hadn’t realised what Louie was trying to. All of Danny’s life Louie had tried to protect him and in the end he died doing just that, protecting his brother at all costs.

At one time Danny’s apartment had been filled with memories and happiness of Tim. For all their arguing and fights, it had been clear to anyone who bothered to notice that there was someone in Danny’s life that meant something to him.

Now all the pictures and gifts from Tim were gone. Danny hadn’t gotten rid of them; he had simply placed them in a lockable box, which had then been placed at the back of the closet, hidden underneath some old baseball jerseys that he didn’t wear anymore. It had been too painful to wake and see them, trapping everything away and hiding it was easier on both his heart and sanity.

As Danny left the cemetery where Louie was buried, he couldn’t help thinking that maybe he should never have let himself care about anyone. That way no one would have gotten killed.


End file.
